


Giz and Hums' Billiards and Brew

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-08-31
Updated: 2002-08-31
Packaged: 2019-05-15 19:47:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14796797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: A night on the campaign trail for Josh, Donna, Toby and CJ.





	1. Giz and Hums' Billiards and Brew

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Giz and Hums' Billiards and Brew**

**by:** Evelyn 

**Category/Pairing:** Josh/Donna, CJ/Toby  
**Written:** August 2002  
**Rating: YTEEN**  
**Disclaimers:** Aaron Sorkin owns everything. There really is a bar in Texas with this name. No offense intended to the waitresses or clientele. And the song titles are real!  
**Notes:** Thanks to Rhonda who encouraged this craziness. Thanks to Shelley for her work as a great editor and for keeping the shippers calm as the season premiere approaches. As she has repeated for months: Amy is a plot device, headed for the curb - hear that Mr. Sorkin? In the meantime, here's some fluff involving our favorite characters.  


"Too short."

"Definitely too short."

"Too fat."

"Too scary...although that tattoo on his left arm does say 'mom'."

"Too bald."

Toby looked up briefly from his beer and scowled. The Press Secretary gave him a slightly embarrassed smile and ruffled the remaining hair on his head. She returned her gaze to the Deputy Deputy Chief of Staff who was also rating the men who walked into the smoky, cowboy bar.

"Oh God, what is he five-four?" CJ grumbled, reaching for her beer.

"It's cuz you're freakishly tall," muttered the Communications Director, running his hand over the top of his head.

"What'd you say Pokey?" CJ answered with a grin.

"Nothing."

"Hel-lo..." Donna said excitedly, elbowing CJ to look at the specimens walking in the door. "He's got to be six-six at a minimum, and what about the guy behind him? I think he's from the campaign headquarters in Austin. Hot and a Democrat, it doesn't get better."

The two women stared in open admiration.

"Do you think there's any correlation between the size of the hat and..." CJ mused.

"I don't know, but check out the size of his boots," Donna answered.

"What the hell..." the Deputy Chief of Staff scowled at his blonde assistant. He'd almost finished his second beer, was eyeing the pitcher, considering a third, and trying to figure out if the lecture from Donna on his sensitive system was worth it. It was. He turned to look at the door and the objects of interest. "You're not seriously thinking of ..."

"Shut up, Josh. *You* insisted on coming along," Donna answered, with a smile.

Josh looked morosely around. "Where the hell are we?" 

"Giz and Hums' Billiards and Brew," Donna explained, checking out the watering hole where they'd all piled in at the end of yet another miserable day of campaigning in the hot Texas countryside. She reached for a handful of peanuts, and took the last swig of Josh's beer.

"No, what God forsaken town are we in," Josh demanded crankily. He'd been in a "mood" for weeks. Bartlet's numbers were tanking and Bruno, in his infinite wisdom, had hired Josh's ex-girlfriend, despite the warning that all cell phones were now at risk.

Toby, his companion in the duet, 'Let's All Sing the Blues,' eyed the bottom of his glass and contemplated moving on to better stuff. He'd also been in a funk for weeks, primarily because as he pointed out on a daily basis, "The President is butchering my stuff."

"We're in Buffalo Gap, Texas, where, according to this," CJ pointed to the menu, "the women are hotter than a two dollar pistol. Pass me the pitcher," and she filled her glass.

"And how did we end up here?" Josh waved around the crowded room, filled with men in jeans, cowboy hats, and boots, and women in short denim skirts, tight t-shirts, and big blonde hair.

"We," pointing to CJ and herself, "are out to have some kick ass fun," Donna pouted. "And if you two," pointing to Josh and Toby, "are gonna spend the night grumbling about butchered speeches and tanking numbers, then..."

"Get your sorry asses outta here cuz you're cramping our style," CJ finished with a grin.

"We're just here to protect you from these...," Toby muttered and waved his hand in the direction of the long bar, and specifically the Amazonian cowboy now ordering a beer, but casting an appreciative eye at the tall Press Secretary. "This is the same town," grabbing the menu from CJ's hands and reading on, "where the men are men and the goats are scared."

Donna stood up. "Okay, it's time."

"Time for what?" Josh asked suspiciously. But his blonde assistant was on her feet shrugging off her denim jacket.

"Donna," Josh squeaked as he caught sight of his assistant's belly button. Her red knit halter top stopped several inches above her tight, hip-hugging jeans. "You're not wearing a..."

"Can't slip anything past you, boss," she grinned. She reached into her purse and took out some lip gloss. She slowly smoothed it over her lips, then glanced over at the wide-eyed Deputy Chief of Staff who was beginning to pant. "Hot in here, Josh?" she asked solicitously.

"Show some dignity," the Communications Director hissed.

Josh put his tongue back in his mouth and poured himself another beer.

"Come on CJ, time's-a-wasting," the blonde urged her friend.

"Maybe..." CJ hesitantly began.

"Are you kidding me? He's six feet six if he's an inch. Come on," she said pulling on her friend's hand.

Taking a final swig of her beer, CJ stood, opened her top two buttons, rolled up her sleeves, and started to move away from the table. Toby caught her hand.

"Are you serious? That guy's a neanderthal and I think he's wearing a Ritchie button."

"I'm not looking at his button," she smirked and swinging her hips, she and Donna approached the bar.


	2. Giz and Hums' Billiards and Brew 2

**Giz and Hums' Billiards and Brew**

**by:** Evelyn 

**Category/Pairing:** Josh/Donna, CJ/Toby  
**Written:** August 2002  
**Rating: YTEEN**  
**Disclaimers:** Aaron Sorkin owns everything. There really is a bar in Texas with this name. No offense intended to the waitresses or clientele. And the song titles are real!  
**Notes:** Thanks to Rhonda who encouraged this craziness. Thanks to Shelley for her work as a great editor and for keeping the shippers calm as the season premiere approaches. As she has repeated for months: Amy is a plot device, headed for the curb - hear that Mr. Sorkin? In the meantime, here's some fluff involving our favorite characters.  


* * *

"Did she just lick her lips? Did you see that? She licked her lips. She swiped her tongue across her lips...that's wrong, just plain wrong," Josh glared and took another long swallow of beer. 

"Shit. If she unbuttons one more...oh, for God's sake, she's practically falling out of her shirt. And that cowboy's eyes are gonna pop right out of his head." Toby signalled the harried waitress and ordered a scotch. He pushed the half-filled pitcher of beer over to his pal who promptly refilled his glass.

"Oh Lord. She flipped her hair back. Did you see it? The hair flipping and...and the tongue swiping. That guy's checking out her chest. She's talking, and flipping, and swiping, and his eyes are glued to Donna's chest." He moaned and lifted his glass to his mouth.

"Oh, yeah. That's a classic Claudia Jean move. Lean back, put both elbows on the bar, and thrust out your...I've seen that move before. Do they have one of those karaoke machines here?" Toby asked, nervously looking around the room. "Oh my God, they do. She's gonna do 'The Jackal'. Do you hear me? She's gonna do 'The Jackal'. And that muscle man...Did he just tuck her hair behind her ears??" He told the waitress to leave the bottle.

"Shit. She's bringing him over here. What the hell?" Josh grumbled.

"Jason wanted to meet the Deputy Chief of Staff," the blonde assistant smirked, right arm tucked under the cowboy's arm. "Jason Marlow, this is Joshua Lyman. Jason is the assistant director of the Austin office of Bartlet for President."

The Deputy Chief of Staff tugged on his assistant's left arm. She leaned down and her soft breath on his ear made the DCOS even more tense.

"Did you just bat your eyelashes at that cowboy?" he whispered, grimly.

Donna straightened up. "Jason, Josh wants to know if I just batted my eyelashes at you. What do you think?" She smiled at the equally blonde, blue-eyed, muscular campaign worker.

"I sure hope so, darlin'." He grinned."She's somethin' special, don't you think Mr. Lyman?"

Josh started to choke on his beer, but sprayed it all over Toby when Jason helpfully slapped him hard on the back. "He's gonna be in the Alaska field office so fast his head's gonna spin," Josh muttered.

Just then the music cranked up and Jason grabbed Donna's hand. "Come on sweetheart, they're playin' our song."

"What song would that be, Jason honey?" Donna grinned, following him onto the dance floor.

"I'll Marry You Tomorrow, But Let's Honeymoon Tonight," he yelled over the twanging guitars.

"Did she just call him honey?" Josh demanded of his drinking buddy, who was too busy watching the Press Secretary whisper something in Muscle Man's ear, which then provoked a huge grin, followed by the Communications Director quickly finishing his Scotch and pouring another.

"I think we should do something," Josh insisted, slightly slurring his words and wondering why his tongue seemed to get in the way of his speech. He poured himself another glass of beer and signalled the waitress for a fresh pitcher of suds.

"Toby?" CJ purred, standing suddenly in front of the drinking pair. "Tom Callahan couldn't believe that you are the man responsible for...how'd you put it, Tom?" The Press Secretary looked positively short next to the tall Texan with the 10-gallon cowboy hat perched on his head and the snakeskin boots with spurs.

"All them purty words that our President says. Course, I understand you're also the feller who wrote that speech on taking away our guns. You know we don't cotton much to that down here in Texas, but I'm not gonna hold that against you or your man. Nope you still got my vote." 

He grasped the Communications Director's soft hand and gave a good Texas, back-slapping, beer guzzling firm handshake. Toby took pride in the fact that he didn't crumble to the ground from the pain, reached for his glass of Scotch, and downed it in one gulp.

"See Toby and you were worried about Tom being a Ritchie guy," and she batted the muscle-bound hunk on his size 56 chest.

"Aw shoot honey, that Florida guy is just dumber than dirt. The engine's running, but ain't nobody's driving."

"Toby, don't you think that Tom has a way with words too?" CJ asked, lifting the speech writer's chin up so she could look directly into his bloodshot eyes.

The music changed and Tom hugged his little CJ. "Come on you little thang, they're starting one of my favorites."

"What's that, my big Texas lug?" CJ drawled, as he pulled her onto the floor.

"'I Was Looking Back to See If You Were Looking Back to See If I Was Looking Back to See if You Were Looking Back at Me'. Buck Owens sang it to Susan Raye. Don't it just get to you?"  


"Definitely," Toby mumbled. "It got to me." He looked at the slightly bleary-eyed Deputy Chief of Staff. "Okay, what's your plan?"


	3. Giz and Hums' Billiards and Brew 3

**Giz and Hums' Billiards and Brew**

**by:** Evelyn 

**Category/Pairing:** Josh/Donna, CJ/Toby  
**Written:** August 2002  
**Rating: YTEEN**  
**Disclaimers:** Aaron Sorkin owns everything. There really is a bar in Texas with this name. No offense intended to the waitresses or clientele. And the song titles are real!  
**Notes:** Thanks to Rhonda who encouraged this craziness. Thanks to Shelley for her work as a great editor and for keeping the shippers calm as the season premiere approaches. As she has repeated for months: Amy is a plot device, headed for the curb - hear that Mr. Sorkin? In the meantime, here's some fluff involving our favorite characters.  


* * *

"They're stealing our girls," Josh said, anger, jealousy, and maybe just a little beer talking.

"Our girls?"

"Damn right," and he self-righteously slammed the table, making the scotch bottle teeter precariously. Luckily Toby, who was slightly more sober and still had a functioning eye-hand coordination thing going, was able to grab it before it smashed to the floor. Or he was really worried about losing the scotch.

"Josh, did you just refer to Claudia Jean Cregg as a girl?"

"Well I haven't checked under the hood, you unnerstan, but I'm pretty sure she qualifies," he smirked.

"Well, I can tell you that if she ever hears you refer to her as a girl, she'll shove a copy of 'The Feminine Mystique' so far up your..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah... do me a favor and skip the lecture. Trust me when I say I've heard the talk and done the walk," he sighed. "But do you wanna get 'em back or not?"

Toby glanced over to the dance floor where he caught a glimpse of Texas Tom slow-dancing with his girl, er woman. "Hell yeah."

"Okay, here's what we do. You hit 'em and I grab the women and run. We meet you out in the alley and..."

"Wait, wait, wait. I do what?" Toby said, suddenly more sober than he'd been in hours.

"You go up to Gentle Ben over there and punch him in the gut. In the meantime, I grab Donna and CJ and get the hell out of Dodge. He'll be so doubled over in pain from the ferocious force..." and Josh paused a moment, pleased with his ability to still bring the alliteration, but then he refocused on the task at hand. "Anyway...while Andre the Giant is trying to catch his breath, you'll have time to make your escape...plus you'll look all manly to Claudia Jean"

"And why am I the one doing the punching?"

"Well I can fire the guy with Donna or at least get him audited, but we need a distraction with the gorilla who, I might add, is hanging all over your woman." Toby glared at the spectacle in front of him on the dance floor, sat up straighter, and reached for the bottle of scotch.

"Let's go," said the bearded, Communications Director, wiping his mouth clean after slugging back a double.

"Right. Let me just get the girls'...er women's pocketbooks," Josh sensitively pointed out.

"You know you look like a dork walking around with two pocketbooks slung over your shoulder," Toby uncharacteristically giggled.

"They won't leave without their stuff," Josh said stiffly, swaying slightly as they pushed through the crowd. 

The music had stopped and a buck-toothed, leathery cowboy was in front of the microphone blathering on about something, just about the time that Josh and Toby had worked their way up next to CJ and Donna and the Buffalo Gap Boys. Toby was practicing making a fist, and checking for exits, when a fanfare seemed to herald their arrival in front of the stage. In fact, when they looked around, they were the only two people in front of the stage.

"You sure you want to do this?" CJ whispered to Toby, who seemed surprised that she knew his plan. But she moved away from Texas Tom, pressed up close against Toby and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Damn right," he said forcefully, punching his right hand into the palm of his left. "I'm ready, willing, and able," he growled.

"I had no idea," Donna breathed into Josh's ear, stepping closer to her boss, leaving clueless Jason behind.

"Well come on up here you gen-u-ine cowboys. Now don't you worry cuz we got the gear and we got the music," the buck-toothed host urged Toby and Josh. The two politicos were at a loss at what was expected, but suddenly found themselves being pushed right up on stage.

"What's yer name?" the genial host inquired.

"Huh?" Toby stammered as a blonde waitress in a too-short skirt and a too-tight blouse shoved a ten-gallon white hat on his head. 

"Fits jest fine," the host chortled, as the hat slid down and partially covered Toby's eyes. The waitress handed him a bullwhip and turned to Josh.

The Deputy Communications Director, at first frozen in place, had now turned to bolt.

"I think you need to lose them pockey-books, young feller. Ain't no cowboy carries even one of them, let alone two."

The crowd started booing as Josh made for the door, but he was pulled back by the freakishly strong blonde waitress who plunked an over-sized black hat on his head and handed him a bullwhip too. She took the purses and looking out, noticed CJ and Donna, grinning from ear-to-ear who motioned to her to toss them the pocketbooks, which she did. 

Familiar music started and the crowd, including two Washington gals, began hooting and hollering in appreciation, tapping their toes in time with the beat, as Josh and Toby stood there, slack-jawed, and in a daze. The two cowboys who'd just been beat out in the romance game, crossed their arms and glared at the slick politicians with over-sized hats on the stage.

"Sing out, cowboy, sing to me honey," Donna crowed.

"What do we do now?" hissed Josh, panic clearly written across his flushed face. He pushed the cowboy hat up from the bridge of his nose.

"You ever see 'The Blues Brothers'?"

Josh looked at his friend with new-found respect.

By now the crowd was stamping their feet and moving dangerously close to the stage, when a tentative voice, with a slight New York accent, began.

"Rollin' Rollin' Rollin'

Though the streams are swollen...

Keep them doggies rollin'

Rawhide!"

And to the amazement of everyone, but most especially to a sophisticated Press Secretary, that last word was accented by the snap of a bullwhip. The crack was electric and she felt the jolt down to her toes.

And then, suddenly, came another voice from the stage. 

"Rain and wind and weather

Hell bent for leather

Wishin' my gal was by my side"

And one Deputy Deputy Chief of Staff sighed when the cowboy on stage winked at her.

Together the two cowpokes harmonized, only slightly off-key.

"All the things I'm missin

Good viddles love and kissin

Are waitin at the end of my ride

Move em' on...Head em' up,...

Head em' up,...move em' on

Move em' on,...Had em' up

Rawhide!

Cut em' out...ride em' in

ride em' in...cut em' out

Cut em' out...Ride em' in

Rawhide!"

And in a sudden display of choreography, the two pardners snapped their bullwhips in concert, and the crowd went wild, hooting, hollering, and changing their votes to Bartlet.

Taking their bows, they hopped down from the stage, and were engulfed by two hot cowgirls - or cow-women if they were being politically correct...which nobody was...when from the back of the crowd came a familiar, female voice, with a hankerin' for cell phones...

"Hey! Plug that mechanical bull in and let's see those boys ride!" 


End file.
